Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Terrestrial Tones to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Associates,
Lou Reed,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Ten City,
Jandek,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
B.T. Express,
Dual Sessions,
Schoolly D,
Urselle,
Glenn Branca,
Q and Not U,
Make Up,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Standells,
John Foxx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
Excepter,
Marc Almond,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Don Cherry,
Robert Wyatt,
Infiniti,
F. McDonald,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Interpol,
Drexciya,
The Techniques,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Sherman,
Slave,
Yellowson,
Kenny Larkin,
Qualms,
Michelle Simonal,
Youth Brigade,
Chris Corsano,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Alphaville,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.